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2. she awakens


Nothing else, but a calm morning in the city of Dewon. Ambulance sirens, honking cars -while someone might be dying, others are just dying to get to work.


It’s been months since the last time she set an alarm for herself. She just couldn’t live up to her own expectations. But God knows how she’s going to wake up this morning.

Her room is always somewhat messy. Whether it’s spoiled food or pink glitter on the floor, really it on depends on her current “project”. Last week she decided to do a documentary on the cockroaches’ lives in the next-door junkie’s apartment. He didn’t get the fuss, but it doesn’t really matter. A few days ago, she started handing out leaflets with philosophic quotes on them. Yesterday she tried to finally learn doing handstands, which ended in a dramatic failure when she kicked up one of her drying canvases and she had to mop up her whole studio.

The moment her eyelids separate, she jumps out bed and looks around in a melancholic way.

‘For God’s sake I’m wasting my time!’- she wails and runs into the kitchen.

Or the kitchen area, as you like to call it. You see, her apartment is not divided into rooms, it’s one open area. But there are a lot of curtains, so if needed, these “rooms” can be separated.

She puts some coffee on the stove and rushes to the sink to brush her teeth. Her rapid movement cause her to push everything off from the counter. She hurriedly dresses up, drinks her coffee in one sip and before you know it, she on the other side of her front door.

Although most of her acquaintances like her, it’s true that her motives are hard to grasp. Some don’t even try anymore. To an outside viewer, she’s somewhere between an artist soul and a true lunatic, opinions may differ. Being her friend can also be a great adventure and a true nightmare. It’s like gambling with the devil, you never really know what you get.

As she rushes down the stairs, she stumbles in her feet and falls over, face down. Instead of getting up, she lies there like a carcass. Up to this point, a little clock was ticking in her brain. Now it seems to have stopped. She inspects the ants on front of her nose, carrying little pieces of crumbs, and the dust piling up on the tiles that seem so huge from this angle, yet, they go unnoticed when someone walks past them. She sighs, then she gets up and climbs back on the stairs to her apartment.

She plods up to her bed and collapses onto it. The soft fabric of her blanket doesn’t bring her any sort of comfort. She rolls over and stares at the ceiling.

“No breakthrough has been made in the past weeks. I need to find my path again”

She gets up once again and decides to go for a walk.

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